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by ChaoticInsaneDreams
Summary: Morgana's latest relationship ends badly, and Arthur needs to teach the ex a lesson. Featuring OCD!Arthur-also not ArMor


On some level, Arthur knew he was not normal. He was not what he should be, but he did a fair job of hiding it. He was very good at hiding, especially his emotions. Those things that hurt so bad. So he buried them away. Hid them away so far inside himself that even he couldn't damage them. The only exception to this, was Morgana. She had been around for all this, had refused to let him completely withdraw. Most of the time, it was bloody annoying. But in the back of his mind, a small voice told him to thank her, for keeping him human. Because without his sometimes extreme protectiveness of her, would he even feel at all?

So yes, while Arthur no longer remembered what it felt like to be happy over a good grade, sad over his girlfriend breaking up with him, he still knew at least what anger was _supposed_ to feel like. And though she tried to hide it, something had severely upset Morgana last night. He did not think it was her boyfriend...well ex boyfriend, but something about the situation and put a chink in her armor. And for that, he would pay.

Arthur was not a violent man. He listened to classical music and worked. Nothing more nothing less. But right now, he needed to try and pull out some emotion. He had always heard that color helped with that, but for Arthur it was the opposite. He put on dark jeans and a black shirt, staring blankly in the mirror. Should he feel afraid right now? Probably not. He could at least take an art major couldn't he? Should he feel apprehension? Should he feel shame? He saw his reflection shrug at him and he left the flat.

His mind was blank as he drove to the ex-boyfriend's house. He struggled to remember his name before shaking it off. It was easier to do this if he was just some nameless bastard. He idly noted that his heart was beating faster, harder. It was possibly a reaction to his thoughts, of what he was going to do. His palms were not sweating out of fear, the steering wheel was simply warm from the heater.

The drive passed quickly. With no feelings of unease to slow down time, it was a simple matter to step out of his car in front of a shabby apartment building, shutting the door with a click. With no security present, it was a simple matter for Arthur to climb the stairs. He knocked softly on the door, staring straight ahead. The door opened and he looked out curiously, a wine glass in one hand and paint splattered over him. His eyes narrowed slightly when he saw Arthur.

"And what are you doing here? I thought this was too "middle class" for you?" he sneered. Arthur ignored the jab and firmly pushed his way into the flat, closing the door behind him and locking it.

"Do me a favor," Arthur said calmly, "Do try and keep quiet."

He thought he would feel something. Satisfaction as his fist connected with his face, sending the wine glass flying, shattered glass sprinkling down, wine splattering across a blank canvas. Fear when he lunged back at him, slamming Arthur against the wall. Hatred at this excuse for a human who thought he could hurt his sister. Wait-was that a feeling? Was he feeling? No, it was just what he knew feeling was, the way it was in books.

Arthur paused with the ex boyfriend pinned to the ground, hand firmly around his throat and squeezing just hard enough to make breathing difficult. His eyes were wide and Arthur stared down at him curiously. Was this fear then? He studied his face intently, taking in every nuance carefully, the rapid breathing, the shaking the wide eyes the flared nostrils. So this was fear then?

It was then that Arthur remembered his name. Michael. He was currently suffocating Michael. The same Michael who currently had tears streaming down a beaten and bloody face, the area around his eye already turning a gruesome black. He let go quickly and Michael took huge shuddering breaths scooting back desperate to get away from Arthur who remained calm throughout. He stood up, grimacing at the thought that he had been on the floor and looked down at Michael who was sobbing silently.

"You hurt Morgana" he said simply and left. If he knew what was good for him, he would stay far away from her. On his way down the stairs, Arthur pulled out his notebook and crossed something off his list. Time to go get cleaned up.

_Ways I May Feel_

_ over family_

_2. rage_

_3. sadness_

_4. joy?_

_5. I should stop trying. _

_6. I feel nothing._

_7. They were right._

_8. He was a Tinman._


End file.
